Phantom of the Orchestra
by TerraBane
Summary: Erik moves to the New york Opera House, where he meets another girl names Christine. PG and Tragedy for ending. Reviews are begged for.
1. Double Vision

It had been years, many long and painful years after the destruction of the Paris Opera House that Erik wandered the world, a pitiful and poor creature, all alone. Though no one quite knows how, he disappeared for a while, soon ending up in New York. Specifically, the New York Opera House. With his incredible genius, he made himself right at home, and within a year had a home built under the Opera House, and could traverse his way around the gigantic building as if it was his old home. And indeed, the insides seemed to have been modeled after the Paris Opera, because every room behind the stage was in the exact same place as before. All Erik had to do was install his own particular tricks to the walls again, and he was all set to haunt his new home until the end of his days.

In his months of construction, rumors started their inevitable spread. Building supplies went missing, non-descript items that were always there suddenly weren't, and a strange presence was seen wandering the halls. Of course everyone by then had heard of the disaster of the Paris Opera House, and soon all of the giggling chorus girls gave this new specter of theirs the title of Phantom. Now Erik was truly at home here.

On one of the later days in that year, Erik was weaving his way through the backwalls of the building, when he heard a girl crying in the room right near him. Being right next to the room anyways, he decided it wouldn't waste time in looking. Pressing his good eye to a hole he had earlier carved into the wall, he saw a young child, no more than 15, curled up in a pile of dusty painting clothes, sobbing into her hands. He couldn't seem to place her face, but he was fine with that for the moment. Having only been here a year, he did not expect to know every face that resided in his new halls. Before he could walk away and forget the moment, Madame Gaera's voice rose from down the hallway_. That_ voice he knew well. It was the voice of the mistress of the Opera house. Very much like his old Madame Giry, but without the connection of him. Her commanding voice called up to the girl. "Christine, come down here this instant! We're starting the second act and you will loose your part if you're late again!" The crying girl, Christine, picked herself up with and start and raced out of the room.

The Phantom stood there in disbelief for a moment. He could not believe his eyes. For a moment, it seemed as if his beautiful love Christine Daae had appeared again before his very eyes. But no, it couldn't be. He decided to follow this interesting story until he was satisfied. He wound his way down to his favorite audience perch, and looked carefully for his darling Daae.

And he soon found her. But it was perfectly obvious now that she was not his darling from Paris. Because the first place she appeared was the orchestra pit. His child-like duplicate of the old Christine was a mere brass in the orchestra. He left, disgusted, swearing that no one could replace his love for the old Christine.

"Little Christine-Pristine finally appears. Not so pristine at all it seems." Michael, lead trumpet and pain in the ass, made his usual crack as Christine sat down in her seat, taking up her horn. She couldn't remember where he got the nickname from, but it appeared to please him and his goons, Paul and Jakelo. They were all that consisted of the trumpet section, and it meant that Michael never had competition for lead part. If the people in your section are your goons, you automatically get best pick.

"Come on Prissy-Chrissie, speak up, where have you been?"

"Umm, Michael, she doesn't speak, remember? That's why we tease her." Paul, the smart one of the group spoke up and showed just how many brain cells he'd shattered over his long trumpet career.

"Paul, shut up before you hurt yourself."

Christine sat there through all of this, quietly getting her horn set for the rehearsal. They would always pick on her, ever since they figured out that she didn't talk. Oh, she'd say a word or two when she had to, but her spoken vocabulary usually consisted of yes, no, sir, ma'm, and goodbye. Why was she this silent? Sometimes not even she knew.

"Are we ready now all? Good." Mantani, lord and conductor of the orchestra, began the rehearsal.


	2. Voice in the Dark

"You've heard about that Phantom guy, the ghost of Paris? They say he's appeared here. They never did catch him there in Paris." Monica, a small chorus girl, was talking with the rest of the altos backstage after the rehearsal. Christine was cleaning through her binder nearby, and caught bits and pieces of the conversation. "They say.. living in the 3rd cellar.. killed a person." She got up and walked off, shaking her head at the gossip whores. What would it matter, if a silly ghost was in the opera. It would probably do the building good to have an invisible caretaker. Then maybe there wouldn't be so many idiots roaming the halls late at night. She was walking along the corridor, heading back to her room, when she passed the door leading to the 3rd cellar. She walked past it a few steps, then her curiosity got the best of her. She set her horn case aside near the door, and peeked her head in. There were stairs leading down from the door into the huge black expanse that was the 3rd cellar. The weak light from the hall she stood in cast light onto only the top few stairs; the rest just faded into the black abyss. She cautiously took a step down, then another. She moved down the staircase until she was on the lowest illuminated step. She had this eerie feeling that if she took another step she'd plunge forever into the darkness.

A quiet but grating sound came to her ears. "I would not travel any farther if I were you." Christine shivered and looked around. That voice had come from somewhere, but with the cellar so dark it was impossible to tell where. She stood there rigid until the harsh voice spoke again.

"This cellar is domain of the Phantom. Only those with a death wish enter here. I give you fair warning, turn back and go into the light where you belong. Leave the creatures of darkness in the dark."

"And what of you?" She asked. It startled her that she'd said that much.

"Leave creatures of darkness in the dark."

"I am still in the light, and you are in the dark. Could I not just stay here?" She stood there, surprised at her own boldness. She hadn't said that many words in years. But somehow she thought it was worth talking to this voice, as rough as it was.

"Child, I have given you fair warning. Leave now before you cannot." That last word was said with such cold indifference and with such a harsh tone that it sent Christine fleeing up the steps as fast as she could. Behind her, the disembodied voice laughed quietly to itself.


	3. Fear of Darkness

Many times after her first forage into the Cellar, Christine was tempted to go down again. She didn't quite know why, but she wanted to know more about the sad soul connected to that voice. That strange voice, which still woke her up at night gasping for breath. It was so scary, yet there was something there behind it, some creature that wanted to belong but couldn't. She'd thought a lot about his words, "Let creatures of darkness stay in darkness." She knew that she was risking her life every time she went near that door, but she was inexplicably drawn to it.

One day, she finally worked up the courage to go back down into that haunted room. She stood at the door for what seemed like ages staring down into the black abyss, searching with all her senses for any sign of the mysterious voice. She couldn't distinguish a thing from all the noise from the rehearsal onstage. Plucking up all her courage, she carefully moved down the staircase one step at a time, stopping only a couple of steps down. She lowed herself down and sat on the step, and waited. She did not have to wait long. That thin, rasping voice appeared once more from out of the shadows, surrounding her with its harshness.

"You again? Pestering child, what do you want? Do you wish to die?"

She sat there, in her usual silent way. She was frightened to speak even if she wanted to.

"Hah, silent? What happens when the light goes out?"

Suddenly the door out of the cellar, the one beam of light into that room, was closed. Christine was instantly thrust into utter darkness, and the only sound she could hear was the pervasive sound of that voice's harsh laughter.

Christine shivered silently on her step, unable to see even her own body beneath her. She wanted nothing more now than to get up and forget all about this cellar, but she knew the phantom voice would never allow that.

"Please, I just wanted to talk…" She could hear the fear in her own voice as she said it, but she tried her best to steady her nerves. Surely he wouldn't kill her for sitting there.

"You want to talk? To a Phantom? My, you are a strange one. Why would you want to go and talk to a being that can only bring misery?" Christine wasn't sure, but she thought she had heard a touch of sorrow at the end, mixed in with all the bitterness?

"Please."

"Humph. Do not waste my time little child, I do not associate with the your world anymore. Get out now, while I'm still in a generous mood."

"You said that the last time." Christine gasped. That was exactly the wrong thing to say, and the Phantom confirmed it.

"You insolent little girl! How dare you! I kept you alive because you reminded me of someone, but I will NOT be mocked!"

Christine was petrified with fear. She curled up on her step; head buried in her arms, and cried. She felt so ashamed to be crying at a time like this, but it was either that or run, and she was too disoriented in this darkness to make that a smart idea. All she could do was sit there and cry uncontrollably and wait for his wrath to hit her.

The voice let out a dejected sigh. "Stop your tears child, my temper left me for a moment. I will not harm you. Please, I cannot stand it when women cry."

Christine still did not move. Fear and her crying still held her in sway. Her sobs quieted some, but she was still obviously upset. She shrunk a little when the voice spoke again, this time literally from right in front of her.

"Child, please. I've had enough sadness in my time, please stop crying. I will even give you back the light, as long as you promise to stop."

She felt the wind as a creature passed her on the stairs, then a moment later the door was opened a crack. She turned around and was blinded by even that small slice of light. To the left of the door, in the barely distinguishable shadows, was the shape of a man. She couldn't see a thing about him except his outline, but it proved to her that this voice was a real human. She got up, wiping the flowing tears from her eyes. Moving slowly, she moved up the steps toward the light, and the figure standing just out of view. When she reached the top of the stairs, she stopped. Very cautiously, as if he might run from her, she reached her hand out toward the shadow's face.

"No."

Her hand stopped in mid-motion. She held it there for a moment, then lowered it and hurried out into the light.


	4. Orchestra Drama

Erik stood there silently after the girl had left. He could not believe how sentimental he had sounded! It sounded like he actually cared about her! He only made her stop because it reminded him too much of his old Christine, that was it. Stupid little girl, coming down into his world, and then crying because her light was taken away. There was a reason he didn't mingle with those kinds of people anymore.

Erik grumbled to himself the whole time he was making his rounds that day. And woe to the sceneshifters who came into his view. There were a reported 3 broken bones when two of the ropes holding a scene suspended suddenly snapped. There was also one minor concussion from a falling sandbag, and numerous complaints of faints from those who saw a ghostly shadow in the rigging.

By the next afternoon Erik's anger had finally calmed enough for the accidents to stop, but the picked up again within two hours. Many of the more superstitious chorus girls were frightened into having nightmares from what they thought was a ghost crying, "She came again!" Every few days, the accidents would flare up anew, and no one could tell why. It can be said though that the sceneshifters were well trained to notice anything amiss up in the rigging after this point in history. It can easily be said that the New York Opera House had the safest rigging in the world.

After many weeks of Christine appearing down on the cellar steps, Erik finally decided to try a different tactic. Apparently the thought of bodily harm to others didn't bother her one bit, so he altered his tricks. The next day, when Christine came down the steps again, Erik used the sweetest voice he could on her.

"Hello Child, whatever could have brought you down here again?"

"I came to talk with you." Erik shook his head. Simple minded twit wasn't all that good with sarcasm.

"So, let us talk then. How fares the world above?"

He could feel Christine scramble for an idea. Apparently even though she's said she wanted to talk, she hadn't thought of what was to actually be said. Confusing child.

"Il Muto is coming along well. You really ought to see it when we get it ready."

"I am planning on it. My seat is saved already."

Christine paused for a moment. She tilted her head slightly and had a puzzled look on her face. Erik had already figured out that she was not very inclined to talk, but for once he spared her his cutting remark on the subject.

"Confused? Do you think the ghost of an Opera House would miss out on the building's one main feature? I have a hidden seat just for me."

Christine nodded. "I would like that sir.."

Erik thought for a moment. Although he had taunted and frightened her endlessly, to her knowledge no names had been passed between them. Well, since he was already this far into his new game, he'd have to give over his name eventually.

"I am called Erik."

"Erik, my name is Christine."

Many months passed while Christine and Erik kept meeting. She seemed to reside under the impression that he cared about what she said, though, while Erik couldn't have cared one bit. Well, to be honest, he did enjoy hearing some of the gossip spread around about all the accidents he caused. Boastful pride, one of his well tuned attributes. He laughed wholeheartedly when she spoke of an instance when a chorus girl slipped through an unlocked trap door and broke her leg. She seemed not at all disturbed at his pride in the accidents, on the contrary. He had never seen her show any emotion besides fear and sadness since he's met her. He didn't care though, he still got his laugh. She would talk, quietly and with as few words as possible, about her world, and he would listen and laugh when she would speak of the idiocy of the singers. One day, at the end of her visit, he offhanded mentioned that he would come and listen to the rehearsal the next day. Her face seemed to reflect a whole new person with how bright and happy it shown.  
As he watched her go down the hallway toward her dorm, he could just barely see her skipping with joy.

Christine could not, for the life of her, contain her joy about her secret audience when the next rehearsal came. Even Michael's ceaseless taunts couldn't put her out of spirits. He seemed to notice this, because for all of that rehearsal he and his trumpet cronies did their absolute best to tear her down. Her playing, her features, her past.. That one almost did the trick, but she was able to hide the sting of his words until later. All during the last song she couldn't contain her anxiousness to get back to the cellar and hear what Erik thought of the music. On the last note, she was so anxious that she let her embouchure slip and the note dropped a partial, obviously wrong and out of turn. Mantani cut off, released the rest of the pit, and glared at her with such fierceness that she felt as if her face was being burned off by its heat.

"Mademoiselle Christine, you will please be so kind as to stay with us until the end of the note next time, yes? Or may haps there will not be a next time to stay on." Christine gulped, nodded, and hid her face behind her music stand while she cleaned out her horn and waited for Mantani to leave.

"Lovely playing my dear, even if Mantani does not agree."

Christine froze. Erik, in her pit. She promised. Her parents said no one could.. Magic destroyed, stranger in her world, he head swirled with so many thoughts she didn't know what she had did next until it was too late.

Christine leaped to her feet in a blaze of wrath. Horn held in her white-knuckled hand, she spun around and, facing the back wall and shouting for all her worth, she screamed at Erik, "GET OUT!"


End file.
